The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1887-07-08

hot spells that sometimes visit us for
two or three days in the spring. PeO-
pie fell down in the streets, struck by
the sun as with a bludgeon. Then
there was kind of incipient riot up
town, caused by strike Of railroad
men.
1t was a Friday morning. The shad-
ows of the lilacs were dancing across
the white cloth on the breakfast table
in Binninger's cottage. A bobolink
was pouring ont bravura air exult-
ingly on the rail of the porch. You
could hear the stroke of a steamers
paddles on the river below. Every
thing at this early hour was dewy and
cool and musical
Binninger sat there at the table,
drinking his coffee and trying to look
at the morning paper at the same time.
Lou sat opposite at the same table,
dreamily watching him.
In high chair, rather prematurely,
was the curly-headed Binninger, try
ing to hit the dancing shadows with
spoon.
Jack" said Mrs. Binninger, with
pause. And Jack threw down the
paper, and with his coffee-cup in his
hand regarded her with concentrated
admiration and tenderness.
Elm going to the city to-day"
''Ha, ha!'' he cried. '''POn my
word, believe you are afraid to tell
me what you want"
''No, no." she replied, quickly, II
don't want any thing; it's not that"
Isn't itP''
mo, no. 1 must go down to the
dressmaker's, and I've some shopping
to do. But I can't wait and come back
with you. l must hurry home by two
o'clock You'll not mind, viii you?"
Yes, / shall mind, he said. ITO
know You are coming, and into that
dingy old office at four o clock, makes
the whole day light. Must you go?"
Il really must. want my dress for
Sunday, and there's lots of other
things"
well. " he said, getting up and look
ing at his watch, "by Jove, I've only
got seven minutes to catch that train.
Goodbye, Bobbles!" And he kissed the
curly-headed boy, put his arms round
his wife, seized his hat, stood there at
| the door moment and came back and
kissed her again.
Jack, " said she, eff you don't think
I ought to GO
my dear, if you must 60. don't be
foolish and tire yourself out running
ali over town, and don't, on your life,
fail to be here when 1 come back.
Goodbye. I've got to run for it. There S
the whistler
He got as far as the little gate. Some
| thing seemed to call him back. 1t was
an ndistinct impulse that made him
turn. The bobolink was calling on the
rail. He heard Boobies voice in the
breakfast-rOom. The bright morning
was full of inarticulate voices. But he
/ did not understand them, and a mo-
ment later he was running down the
hill to the train with happy heart.
Could he have interpreted the voices
1 think this is what they said
Don't let her go! Don't let her go!
Don't let her go!''
"
Seven hours in the counting-room.
/ A long desert of calculation broken by
a half hours oasis of lunch at Demon
ico's; a passing word with Saunders,
who asked after Lou. Saunders had
been in love with her himself. Two
minutes with Brainsby on the corner,
who said he had got his steam launch
and was going to drop in ut Dobb' s
Ferry some day with cargo of pres
ents for Boobies.
An hours worry over firm cOmpli-
cation, in which one of the partners
had been unreasonable and curt; one
by one the hours, full of hard appli-
cation, melted away. The voices OF
newsboys told him the afternoon pa
pers were out. Slowly the day, which
had been an exasperatingly hot one,
drew TO a close. Four O'Clock came al
last. and he was flying uptown to the
Forty-second street depot. There was
the usual crowd of business fellows on
the train. They talked horse, steam
ship, oil. They were light-heaIted
careless and communicative, and the
train dropped them all along, at Yon.
kers, Riverdale, Hastings
At a few minutes past five O'Clock
Binninger stood on his graveled walk.
He had little surprise in his pocket
for Lou. He waited for her to put hen
head through the lilacs. He had grown
accustomed to this luxury of expecta-
ton and impatient welcome.
For the first time he was disap-
pointed. But in the three or -four
seconds he stood there making a noise
on the gravel with his cane, he noticed
how strangely still the afternoon was
against the blitheness of the morning
Then he went into the house with {
sudden eagerness.
Boobies was tied in high chair at
the window, his head hanging over OF
his arm. His ewes were red. He haC
evidently cried himself to sleep. Tn,
table stood empty in the middle of the
room. He had pictured the dinner
waiting and the copper tea urn singing
and steaming. The voiceless place
maddened him.
Lofty" he cried, encouragingly
and then imperatively, stamping hi
foot.
Lofty put her head TIN ough tn,
i kitchen door, lookinga little scared.
: where's Mrs. Binninger?"
"Shure, and thin she's not come YETI
"Wen, where's the telegram? VIII,
: don't you give me the dispatch?'
''Indade, there's nary dispatch a
ALL"
He was losing his temper, He cursed
, the country telegraph service.
Get the dinner on the table. Shell
be starved to death when she gets here
, IN 60 down and get the dispatch"
Nothing here, sir, said the girl a
the telegraph Office I'D sent it up il
t there had been"
uos1 ,,-,;+ So. tho ,,o~-t 4-a;D T.